The Librarian
by jedidah
Summary: "You're murderers." Rhetta held up a hand, "And please don't give me a speech about how you only killed 'evil' men. I've heard it all before. And while I do agree that the men you killed deserved it, I do not believe that you have the right to take the law into your own hands." "So, you're no' a fan?"
1. Chapter 1

**Now, normally I wouldn't dream of using language like this in a story, but to stay in keeping with the Boondocks' Universe, I will have to use it. Ergo, this fic shall be rated M simply for that…and, possibly, innuendo and darker content. **

**Chapter 1**

_"There are still no words on the disappearance of Boston's notorious 'Saints' from Hoag Maximum Security Prison. The 'Saints,' later discovered to be brothers Conner and Murphy MacManus, disappeared from their cell nearly two weeks ago today. Along with the brothers their accomplice, known only as 'Romeo,' has also disappeared. Prison officials say that the brothers, and their accomplice, were in their cell at lights out, but in the morning they were gone. Residents in the Boston area are warned that these men are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous." _

The apartment was quite small, barely seven hundred square feet of space. The kitchen's counters were covered in empty pizza boxes and dirty dishes. An odd smell emanated from the fridge. The two beds were unmade and the small dining room table was covered in empty beer cans. The floor was covered in dirty clothes and the shower was dripping after not being turned off properly. Two identical crucifixes hung from two nails next to the front door.

"Did ye hear that Conn, we're 'extremely dangerous.'?"

Conner MacManus looked up at his brother. Murphy was lying on his back, legs propped up on the wall. He was grinning excitedly and drumming his heels against the wall. Conner looked back at the television and muttered, "They're making us sound crazy. We're no' crazy."

"Fuck, o' course we're crazy." Murphy said proudly.

"What makes you say tha'?"

"If we're no' crazy how the hell do we keep gettin' away with all this?"

Conner replied, "Dumb luck and the grace o' God."

"I suppose that could be it, but I still t'ink we're crazy."

Conner rolled his eyes as he turned back to the TV, "You're having too much fun with this, lil' brother."

"I'm older! You know that."

"I'm older an' you know it."

Murphy threw a pillow at Conner. It glanced off Conner's head. Conner growled and jumped at his brother. The two rolled around on the floor, playfully punching and kicking one another.

A knock at the door startled them out of their play-fight and they stilled. Conner was on top of Murphy, holding his darker haired twin down easily. Murphy used the knock to his advantage and knocked Conner off him. He scrambled to his feet and bounded to the door. He peered out of the keyhole, then yelped and jumped back, "Shit, get some clothes it's Ms. Hanlon."

Conner threw his brother a shirt and grabbed one for himself. He tugged it on just as Murphy opened the door and smiled down at the woman. Murphy felt Conner come up behind him and in unison they both said enthusiastically, "Hallo Ms. Hanlon."

Ms. Hanlon was an old, white haired woman. Her face was wrinkled. Her white hair was styled to perfection. Her clothes were clean and crisp with starch. Her shoulders were slightly stooped, but she held herself with the dignity of old age. Her blue eyes were bright as she said, "You boys look awful."

"And you look lovely."

The woman smiled, "You're both such nice boys." She paused for a moment, then said, "I wan' ta invite ye ta dinner. I'll be makin' lamb stew an' I'm sure you both could use a good meal. You're skin an' bones. When's the last time ye had a good meal?"

The brothers exchanged glances. Murphy shrugged and said, "I don' rightly remember." He glanced over his shoulder at Conner, "Do ye?"

"No, I don'."

Murphy turned back to the old woman and said fervently, "Ms. Hanlon, ye're a dream."

"O' course I am. Now, I want you boys ta go wit' me while I invite Rhetta ta dinner."

The brothers exchanged glances. Then they asked in unison, "Who's Rhetta?"

"She's a nice girl." The old woman's eyes brightened as she added, "She's unattached."

Murphy looked at Conner, grinning, "Oh, really now?"

Ms. Hanlon nodded sagely, "She's quite pretty, for an English girl."

The boys wrinkled their noses and said, "English?"

"Don' judge her ta quickly."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

_"There are still no words on the disappearance of Boston's notorious 'Saints' from Hoag Maximum Security Prison. The 'Saints,' later discovered to be brothers Conner and Murphy MacManus, disappeared from their cell late last night. Along with the brothers their accomplice, known only as 'Romeo,' has also disappeared. Prison officials say that the brothers, and their accomplice, were in their cell at lights out, but in the morning they were gone. Residents in the Boston area are warned that these men are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. According to sources from inside the police and rumors from several detectives, the Saints were candidates for early parole. While these rumors cannot be confirmed, they cannot be dismissed lightly." _

Rhetta Davies was a dark haired, dark eyed young woman. She was of average height and average weight. She had small hands and feet, with narrow, almost birdlike, wrists and ankles. She sipped at the mug of steaming tea as she watched the news on the small television in her living room. The tea steamed up the small square reading glasses she wore low on her nose. She wiped them on the long sleeve of the thick sweater she wore. She was curled up on her overly large couch, a blanket wrapped around her legs and a thick book open on her lap.

On the couch beside her lay two dogs. One was a very white, very fluffy Bichon Frise named Trixie. The short claws on its front and back paws were painted pink. The other, slightly smaller, dog was a brown eared Papillon with a studded leather collar. On the Papillon's collar was the name 'Dixie.'

At the sound of a loud knock, the dogs leapt up and began barking frantically. Rhetta almost spilled her tea as she jumped at the sound of the dogs' barking. She got to her feet, squirming free of the blankets as she set the tea on the small coffee table. She headed for the door, pulling the sweater lower so that it covered more of her bare legs. She didn't bother looking through the peephole as she opened the door.

She smiled at the old woman as she greeted her cheerfully, "Hallo Ms. Hanlon."

"Good afternoon dear," The old woman smiled back at her, then said, "Rhetta, I wan' ye ta meet the O'Neill brothers, Murphy and Conner. They live upstairs."

Rhetta glanced at the men, utterly disinterested. The man on the right was barely shorter than the man on the left. He had scruffy brown hair and a mole on the left side of his mouth. The man on the left had a well groomed, short, beard and brown hair that stood on end in a manner that somehow appeared almost orderly. Both men wore identical jeans and black shirts. They were both smiling nervously and shifting back and forth as they tried to hit each other surreptitiously.

Rhetta stared at them, sure she knew the men from somewhere. She faintly heard the reporter on the television droning on about the Saints and suddenly it hit her. Her eyes widened a fraction and she looked hard at the men. They seemed to notice her scrutiny and looked back at her hard. Rhetta looked away quickly and focused her attention entirely on the old woman.

Ms. Hanlon turned to the men and said, "Rhetta works at the library. She used to live with her boyfriend, but she kicked him out a few days ago."

Rhetta's eyes widened; she flushed dark red as she said, "Ms. Hanlon, I'm sure they're not interested –"

The old woman ignored her as she continued, "I haven' heard such a commotion in years. He was throwing things and she was screaming. I almost called the police I got so scared."

"It was hardly that bad," Rhetta murmured feebly.

"It is now that bruise on your face has gone down." Ms. Hanlon turned to the men, "Can you believe it? He actually hit her." Before the men could answer, the old woman turned back to Rhetta and asked, "Will ye be joinin' us for dinner?"

Rhetta shook her head, "I'm afraid I can't tonight."

"That's what ye've been sayin' for months."

"I'm very sorry Ms. Hanlon."

Ms. Hanlon sighed and said, "You boys try and convince her. I have ta go and start the stew."

After the old woman had disappeared and started down the stairs, Rhetta turned to the men, crossed her arms and said bluntly, "You're the MacManus twins."

They stared at her for a moment, then the taller one said, "Now what would make you t'ink that?"

"You're on the news."

"Well, there is that."

"We're no' the MacManus brothers."

"Of course you're not," Rhetta stepped back into her apartment, "Well; it was nice to meet you both. Now go away."

She reached for the cell phone that was charging on the kitchen counter as she started to shut the door. The taller man reached inside and grabbed the charging cable. The phone was pulled out of Rhetta's hand and it clattered onto the floor. Rhetta jumped back as the men entered the apartment. Her dogs bounded over, both snarling and yipping.

The shorter man stopped dead and stared at the dogs, "What the fuck are those?"

The taller one smacked him on the back of the head, "Shut the fuck up. You know you're no' supposed ta use language like that in fron' o' a lady. Didn't ye listen ta anything Ma tried ta teach ye?" His voice trailed off slightly as he muttered, "Ye're a fuckin' idiot."

The darker haired man shot his brother the finger and muttered, "Go to hell, jackass."

The fairer man turned to Rhetta and said firmly, "You can' call the police."

"Of course I can." Rhetta snapped as she backed further away.

"Murph, shut the door an' shut those rats up." He turned back to Rhetta and held out a hand as he said, "I'm Conner."

Rhetta stared at his hand as if it was a venomous snake. She looked him in the eyes, "I think you should be rotting in a prison cell."

"We're no' that bad."

"You're murderers." Rhetta held up a hand, "And please don't give me a speech about how you only killed 'evil' men. I've heard it all before. And while I do agree that the men you killed deserved it, I do not believe that you have the right to take the law into your own hands."

"So, you're no' a fan?"

Rhetta's right brow rose as she said coolly, "No, I am not a 'fan.'"

Conner sat down at the kitchen counter and said confidently, "We would o' gotten out even if we hadn' escaped. Our fans were signing petitions."

Rhetta conceded, "Your fans are very persistent. And their petitions must have worked. According to the TV, there were rumors the two of you were up for parole."

Murphy looked up from the dogs, smirking, "We have lots o' fans."

"Unfortunately, you do."

Conner smiled at her, "So, are ye still goin' ta call the police?"

"Of course I am."

Murphy and Conner exchanged glances. Conner shrugged, "We can't stop you."

Murphy picked up the phone and tossed it to his brother. Conner dialed the number for her, then said, "May I speak to Detective Duffy please?" He waited a moment, then handed the phone to Rhetta, "Just ask Duffy to come down. He'll clear all this up for ye."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What do you mean it's not them?" Rhetta stared disbelievingly at the two middle aged detectives that stood in the kitchen. One was shorter and slightly rounder. The other was slim with grey hair and beard.

The smaller man said, "Ma'm, we've taken their fingerprints and run them through the system. They're not the MacManus brothers."

"I am to take it that their uncanny resemblance and the fact they have the same name means nothing at all? Nothing? Not a thing?"

"It's just an uncanny resemblance."

Rhetta scowled at the detectives, then looked at the brothers. Ms. Hanlon cut in before she could speak, "I'm sure it was all a misunderstanding, wasn' it dear?"

Rhetta gritted her teeth, nibbling her lower lip hard, as she snapped, "Yes, I suppose it was."

"Now that all this unpleasantness has been cleared up," The old woman turned to the detectives, "Would the two of ye like ta stay for dinner?"

Rhetta slipped out of the kitchen - doing her best not to be observed as she did so - and headed up the stairs. She heard footsteps behind her and turned. Conner had followed her up the stairs. She stepped back, clenching her fists as she said, "I know what you are and I will try and have you arrested."

"I can live wit' that, till ye change yer mind o' course." He leaned against the wall opposite her, crossed his arms over his chest and smiled.

"I won't change my mind."

"Course you will, everyone does." He said confidently. Abruptly he changed tact and said slowly, "I actually wanted ta ask ye a favor, iffen ye don' mind."

Rhetta stayed quiet for a moment, but her curiosity got the better of her common sense and she asked, "What is it?"

"Ms. Hanlon said you work at the library." He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill, "I'd be obliged if you could find me the blueprints for the Yakavetta complex."

Rhetta blinked, "You don't need to pay me to do research –"

"Oh, well, if that's the case –" Conner started to put the bill back in his pocket.

Rhetta's hand snaked out. She caught his arm and said, "I don't need it, but I won't turn it down." She looked down briefly, then said, "You do realize that they will be difficult to obtain, don't you?"

"I didn' except it would be a walk through a field of daises," He replied.

"Why did you ask me? I'm sure you know other people who could find the blueprints faster."

"Course I do, but most of them are in prison or have a parole officer."

Rhetta blinked at him slowly, "I'll get them to you as soon as I can."

He handed her the bill and smiled, "Thank ye lass."

"Please don't call me that."

He merely grinned at her, then headed down the stairs, leaving Rhetta alone on the stairs. She looked at the crumpled bill in her hand, then scowled and crumpled it in her hand.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XX**

**Well, this is my first plunge into the Saints mythology. I hope you enjoy it, and remember, R&R.**

**P.S. The cover art used was made by Yoriannce. You can find it on DeviantART. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Mom, I'll be fine…..The power company says the lights will be back on in a matter of hours…It's the new tenants, they're complete psychos…I'm not kidding. They knocked out the generator…..I have no idea how…" Rhetta fumbled as she got her keys out of her purse and put them in the lock of her apartment's door, "They're usually quiet…..I don't know how they broke it, but they did…..Mom, no one's going to break in…..Yes, even if the lights are off…..It's a good neighborhood…Yes it is…. Mom, I'm not worried. Round here nothing happens, so this is a pleasant diversion to the general monotony of life…It's an Irish neighborhood….The Irish are quite nice….You're English, of course you feel that way…You're such a snob…...Mom, I'm on the fourth floor, if anyone wanted to get in here they'd have to be Spiderman…Of course the building has a fire escape…Mom, it's two windows over…..Spiderman Mom, Spiderman," She pushed the door open and went into the small hallway as she listened for a moment longer, then said, "I love you too…I'll see you Sunday. Goodbye."

She ended the call, banged her hip against the table sharply, set down the thick book she had previously held cradled protectively in the crook of her left arm, and dropped the phone onto the scarred wooden surface as she headed for the window. She slid off the black, close toed pumps she wore as she called, "Trixie, Dixie, I'm home."

The clatter of claws on the wooden floorboards announced the dogs' arrival. She dropped to her knees as the dogs jumped at her, clawing at her shirt and yelping in excitement. She put her purse on the floor and pulled out a white take out box. When it appeared, the dogs began to bark even more loudly and jump up in anticipation. She opened the box and the smell of stale fries wafted around the apartment. She put the box on the floor and straightened fully, wincing as her knees protested, and she started toward the windows. She avoided the coffee table - picking up the nearly full glass of a strange brown liquid she didn't remember buying as she passed it - and the couch. She put a hand against the wall as she pulled the cord to open the blinds. As they rose, she heard the sound of breaking glass coming from outside. She opened the window, scowled when it stuck halfway, and pushed her head and shoulders out as best she could as she leaned out. She sipped the drink, then she grimaced at the taste of the now flat soda as she turned her head to look down the alley.

The two brothers were rolling in the puddles, punching and kicking each other and cursing loudly, though Rhetta was sure the fight was purely for entertainment or to break some sort of monotony rather than any real enmity or anger on either brother's part. They bumped against the dumpster and stopped for a moment, but continued after a short pause.

She rested her chin in her hands, watching the brothers, unsure if she was amused or entirely apathetic, then glanced at the glass in her hand, then back to the men. She considered for a moment, then leaned out as far as she could. She waited till the men had rolled closer, then she turned the glass over and watched the soda descend, but she pulled her head back in before she saw the full effect. She leaned against the wall and grinned triumphantly when she heard two angry, startled shouts.

She shut the window quickly and flitted over to the kitchen counter. She shut the lid of the battered CD player and pressed a few buttons. As Winter began to play, she unzipped the zipper on the side of the black pencil skirt she wore and let it drop onto the floor. As she stepped out of the puddle of fabric on the floor she began undoing the buttons of her white dress shirt. She slipped it off and let it drop just in front of the skirt.

She spun on the balls of her feet, eyes shut for a moment, as she went back to the now empty take out box and picked it up. Trixie and Dixie yelped and tried jumped for the box, but she crumpled it, then tossed it toward the trashcan. She scowled when it missed.

The dogs pounced on it and began ripping the box to shreds. Rhetta scowled at them, "Now I have to clean that up, good dogs."

The dogs ignored her and continued ripping the box into pieces. She knelt and batted the dogs away carefully, gathering up the pieces of the box as she did. The small dogs tried in vain to reach the pieces of the box, but the woman got to her feet before they could. As she tossed the remains of the box into the trash there was a knock at the door.

The small dogs began barking frantically, charging the door and throwing their tiny bodies against it as they did. She paused for a moment, watching the dogs, then shouted, "Hang on!"

She didn't bother turning the music down as she headed for her small bedroom. She stepped over the pile of bedclothes on the floor and reached for the oversized Dallas Cowboys' t-shirt hanging off the end of her bed. She threw it on, then grabbed for the grey pajama pants on the floor. She hopped on one leg as she headed for the door. She nudged the dogs aside gently, then opened the door.

She leaned against the frame, grinning slightly, "Can I help you gentlemen?"

The brothers stared at her, nearly identical blue-ish grey eyes boring into her. She reached up and ran a hand through her long, dark hair as she said, "Don't just stand there gaping, I have better things to do than stand here-"

"Ye threw a soda on us," Murphy said accusingly.

Conner scowled at her, Irish accent, so very nearly identical to the other man's, very thick as he asked, "Or is there someone else in there?"

She shrugged and replied, "I threw it. You were loud and I honestly didn't expect it to hit you." Dixie dodged round her legs and began barking at the men. She stooped and gathered the dog up, stroking its head as she continued, "Besides, you ought to be glad it was only soda since you're the ones that killed the electricity today, knocked out the hot water a week ago and came in roaring drunk and woke the whole building the day before Lent. If I'd had anything else handy I'd have thrown it instead."

"Do we at least get an apology?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, of course not."

The taller one sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "Did ye get the blueprints? It's been days."

"Of course I did. You paid me for it, didn't you," She cut him off as she turned into her apartment and set Dixie down. She looked over her shoulder and said, "Stay there."

She walked back into her living room and grabbed her purse. She rummaged in it and pulled out a sheaf of paper. She flipped through it quickly as she headed back to the door. She handed it over as she said, "Remember when you get caught that I had nothing to do with this."

"Course not," Murphy grabbed the folder and flipped though it as his companion said, "We would never dream of getting ye in trouble."

She cocked her head and asked curiously, "I really shouldn't ask this, I know that, but why do you want the blue prints to Yakavetta complex? It's been abandoned for months, except for the old lady."

Conner said slowly, "Ye really oughtn't to ask that."

Murphy grinned, "Ye wouldn't want to get in trouble, would yer?"

"Or do you like trouble really," Conner wriggled an eyebrow suggestively.

She raised a brow as she asked sweetly, "Do you always speak in turn? Or is it something that developed along with your homoerotic relationship?"

The men exchanged glances, both looking confused. A moment later they both looked at her and asked, "Our what?"

"You haven't visited your fan sites, have you?"

She started to shut the door, but a foot was wedged in the door before she could. She scowled at it, reached behind her and grabbed the umbrella that hung from a hook on the wall, and used it to poke at the shinbone attached to the foot. The pained yelp made her smile.

The smaller one called, "Why would we have fan sites?"

She opened the door and stared at them, "You're the Saints of course you have fan sites."

The men exchanged glances, both grinning devilishly. The taller one said, "We're no' the Saints."

Murphy added, "We're no' even the MacManus brothers, remember. The detectives cleared us. Remember?"

He grinned and grabbed the other man around the neck and bent him forward to rub his knuckles in the man's brown hair as he said, "I'm Murphy and that's me brother Conner, but we're no' them. Remember?"

"Of course you're not," She opened the door again and used the umbrella to poke the man in the chest. He released his brother a moment later, grinning as he batted the umbrella away playfully. She said, "Please don't insult my intelligence."

Conner asked, "Ye really don't like us, do ye?"

Rhetta shrugged, allowing them to draw their own conclusion. As her silence continued, the brothers exchanged glances. The smaller one muttered, "_Pas bien_."

She cocked her head, "French?"

"You speak it?" He asked.

"Not a word, but I recognize it."

The door across the hall opened and a white haired old lady stepped out, carrying a paper bag filled with groceries and several saucepans. She smiled at them, "Hallo boys."

The men smiled at her and greeted her in unison, "Hallo Ms. Hanlon."

She smiled at them, dentures very white in the dim light of the hallway, "Are you boys going to be down for dinner tonight?"

The taller one replied, "O course we are."

The smaller boy added, "We would no' miss yer seedcake loaf for the world."

"We were just inviting…" Conner turned to her, "What's yer name again?"

Ms. Hanlon supplied it for him, "Rhetta, dear, you look tired. Did ye have a hard day at work?"

Rhetta smiled at the woman, "Working with teenagers isn't the most relaxing of jobs."

"Well, yer invited to dinner as well," The woman looked at the boys disapprovingly, "Go get washed up. Yer both filthy. What do ye do all day? Play in dirt?"

The brothers exchanged glances, both smiling. They bounded down the hall, pulling at one another's clothes and trying to trip each other up. Rhetta watched them go, nibbling her lower lip as she did. She turned to the old woman and asked, "Do Irish men ever act mature?"

"No' to my knowledge," Ms. Hanlon smiled fondly, "They're good boys though."

"I'm sure they are," Rhetta replied. She winced as she heard a loud crash from the direction of the stairs. There was an ecstatic shout of "Rome!" from two Irish throats.

Mrs. Hanlon looked Rhetta over carefully, then asked, "Yer no' going ta wear that ta dinner, are ye?"

"I wasn't planning on –"

Ms. Hanlon cut her off before she could finish, "What about the pretty blue dress ye wore the day afore yesterday? It looks nice on ye."

Rhetta stayed quiet for a moment, then said, "I'll see if it's clean. Do you need any help in the kitchen?"

"That would be nice of ye dear," The woman turned away and started for the stairs.

Rhetta watched her go, then she sighed, stepped back into her apartment, shut the door, looked down at the dogs and muttered to herself, "Where's that damn dress?"

**XXXXXXXXX**

**Well, here's chapter two. I hope it's enjoyable. And I feel I should warn you, this story will not be dark and angst filled. There will be gratuitous violence, but it will not dominate the story line. There will be sexual content, but it will not be explicit in any way whatsoever. And some humor. **

**Now that's out of the way...****Thanks so much to all the wonderful people who Followed for Faved, and special thanks to Leyshla Gisel for the Review. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Rhetta searched through her closet and laundry pile quickly. The dress wasn't in either spot. Dixie and Trixie bounded around, tugging a dress out of the laundry hamper and dragging it into the center of the living room. Rhetta chased after the dogs and took back the slinky black dress, despairing silently over the dog hair that now covered the silky folds.

Rhetta sighed in despair and headed to the kitchen. She opened all the drawers and cabinets, but the dress still didn't appear. She turned to the fridge and, on a whim, pulled open the door of the freezer. There, folded neatly, was the blue dress. She pulled it out and stared at it, brow furrowed. She stripped out of her pants and shirt and pulled on the dress. The zipper was cold against her skin and she shivered as she adjusted the three quarter length sleeves, smoothed the skirt and straightened the sharply creased collar. She reached up and carded her fingers through her long dark brown hair as she reached over and turned off the CD player. She got out the dogs' food, filled their dishes and checked their water dish. Trixie and Dixie pounced on their dishes voraciously.

Rhetta picked up the heavy book she had set on the table previously and tucked it under her arm. She didn't bother with shoes as she headed for the door, through the hall, down the stairs and into the landlord's small, but very clean kitchen. Ms. Hanlon was standing by the kitchen counter, talking to the thin, balding man who owned the building. He smiled at her, crooked teeth stained brown from years of smoking, as he said, "Look who finally accepted a dinner invite."

Rhetta returned his smile, "It's good to see you again Mr. –"

"Just Jim," He reminded her.

Rhetta restrained a smile as she shook her head and said, "But that's so informal."

"Oh, informal is it?"

"Formality's so borin' though."

She glanced over her shoulder at the brothers. They stood on either side of a Mexican man, arms slung around his shoulder and tangled in his long black hair. She noted that the sides of his head had been shaved at one point or another, and the hair was growing in patchily. He nodded at her, "Chica."

Rhetta inclined her head and said formally, "Nice to meet you too."

"I don't think I said that," He replied.

The Irish boys laughed and the smaller one said, "Told ye she was weird, Rome."

Rhetta couldn't help but ask, "Is 'Rome' short for something?"

"It's short for _Romeo_, because he's just like a lovesick, crybaby teenager."

"Go fuck yourselves," The Mexican snapped.

"Oh, that's no' nice," Murphy said as he childishly pulled the man's long hair. "'Sides, it'd get borin'. I like variety."

Conner shook his head, "Watch yer language Rome."

"Whatcha gonna do?" He raised his hands and gestured wildly as he asked mockingly, "Make me put a quarter in the swear jar?"

"No, I'll cut all yer long hair off and stuff it down yer throat!"

"Be nice boys," Ms. Hanlon called.

Rhetta walked over the counter, set the book down far away from where the food was being prepared, and asked, "What would you like me to help with?"

"Can ye wash those potatoes for me dear?"

Rhetta smiled, "Of course."

As Rhetta moved to the sink and began to rinse the potatoes the woman asked, "Do ye cook?"

"Some, but I usually eat out," Rhetta replied.

The old woman clicked her tongue as she said, "Those fast food restaurants are ruining the country's eating habits. That's why people are so fat nowadays. When I was young, I never ate out. It was only when I went to college that I ate at restaurants. It can no' be good for ye to eat out every day. It will eventually ruin yer figure. Ye are much smaller –"

Rhetta listened to the woman, smiling occasionally and nodding at the appropriate intervals. She was startled out of her silent reverie when the kitchen window shattered.

The three men charged the door. Jim got to his feet and followed them, albeit much more slowly. Ms. Hanlon stepped toward the sink and said, "Help me get this glass out, will ye dear?"

Rhetta stared at the piece small of glass embedded in the woman's wrinkled palm. A tiny trickle of blood ran down the underside of the old woman's arm. Rhetta felt her knees buckle slightly at the sight and she gagged on the bile that rose in her throat. She supported herself on the kitchen counter and nodded silently as she stepped away from the sink and grabbed for a washcloth. She turned the water on and damped the cloth. Ms. Hanlon smiled at her as she said, "Give me that. Yer not good with blood are ye?"

Rhetta shook her head, "No ma'm, I'm not, but I'll go find a bandage."

She ran to the bathroom, bare feet making little noise on the wooden floor. She rummaged through the cabinets, haphazardly tossing the contents onto the floor behind her. When she found a small box of Band-Aids and antiseptic cream she got to her feet and ran back to the kitchen.

Ms. Hanlon was sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of water in front of her. She smiled up at Rhetta, "Thank ye dear."

Rhetta took the cap off the cream and looked away as Ms. Hanlon put it on the cut. She passed the woman a Band-Aid, still not looking at the small cut. When Ms. Hanlon had finished bandaging the cut she said kindly, "Blood isn't pleasant to see, dear."

Rhetta got to her feet. The glass was all over the floor and she had to step carefully to avoid it. She wrapped the still damp cloth around her hand, then picked up the large brick that had been heaved through the window and set it on the kitchen table. She used the cloth to start sweeping up the glass.

Ms. Hanlon began chattering away, "This has no' happened in years. I'm quite shaken."

"How much do you think it'll cost to repair the window," Rhetta asked curiously.

"As if I would know," The old woman replied, "Jimmy's bound to know. Ye ought ta ask him."

Rhetta swept the glass into a pile by the door. She glanced up when the brothers bounded back in, both grinning and with a cocky swagger to their movements. The Mexican followed behind them, with Jim right behind them. Rhetta got to her feet and stepped back, rolling her eyes at their boisterous manner.

Ms. Hanlon said sharply, "And just what did ye boys get up ta?"

Murphy grinned, "We found the kids that did it."

Conner dug into the front pockets of his jeans and pulled out several crumpled bills. He dropped them on the table and said, "They offered ta pay for the damage."

Rome looked at the bandages and antiseptic cream and said, "That's what we need."

He threw himself into a chair and began applying the cream to his bleeding knuckles. Rhetta surreptitiously rolled her eyes as she skirted around the men and hoisted herself onto the counter. She picked up her book and began to read. She barely looked up as Jim came in and began reenacting the chase and apprehension of the vandals. After a time, a plate was put on the counter next to her and she ate automatically, eyes never straying from her book.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A hand touched Rhetta's shoulder and she jumped, banging the back of her head on the edge of the cabinet behind her. She nearly dropped the heavy book as she slid off the counter and looked up. The lights in the kitchen had been turned off, but dim light was still coming in through the now boarded up window and casting weird shadows on the walls. Conner held his hands up as he said playfully, "I didn't mean ta startle ye, lass, but ye've been sitting there for hours. I thought ye'd want ta go up ta bed."

Rhetta blinked, then reached up to rub her head. She could feel a lump already forming under her hair and winced. She smiled as she met the man's eyes and said, "Thank you."

She put her finger in the book to hold her place, then slipped past the man and headed up the stairs. She heard footsteps and looked up as Conner fell in step beside her. They walked up three flights of stairs in silence. Then, as he held a door open for her, he looked down at the book for a moment, then asked curiously, "Whatcha reading?"

Rhetta replied, "_Le Morte de Arthur_."

"I read that years ago, in French."

She thought for a moment, then said, "Someone's just showing off now."

He shrugged one shoulder, "Aren' ye impressed?"

"Quite," Rhetta replied coolly.

"Do ye like fairytales?"

"They've always interested me."

"Merlin was Irish ye know."

Rhetta looked up at him, "I always thought he was Welsh."

"That's what they want ye ta believe."

"Who's they?"

"Ye know, 'they,'" Conner waved his hands, "They. Those people who tell ye what to do and keep everyone in order. They."

She smiled slightly at his enthusiasm, "I've encountered 'them' once or twice."

"See? I'm no' making it up." He continued, changing the subject abruptly, "When I was a kid I loved all that fairytale shit."

"What about now?"

He shrugged, "I suppose I got old enough ta realize that fairytales do no' come true."

"That's one way of looking at it."

"What's the other?"

"Did you get old enough to _forget_ that fairytales do come true?"

"I suppose that's another way a looking at it."

Rhetta's curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "Where's your brother got to?"

"He's gone somewhere wit' Rome." He shrugged, "The hell if I know what they're getting up ta."

"I don't think I've ever seen you without him before."

"I can't let him outta me sight usually. He's always getting inta trouble." He ran a hand through his hair. Then he said slowly, "Merlin didn't have a happy ending."

"Of course he did."

"The woman he loved betrayed him and trapped him in a tree. How is that happy?"

"The woman he loved saved him. She put him somewhere he couldn't be found so Morgan Le Fay wouldn't be able to destroy him, when Arthur returns, so will Merlin." Rhetta smiled, "How is that sad?"

Conner considered for a moment, "I never thought of it that way."

"Well," Rhetta stopped in front of her door and opened it slightly, "It's nice to know that we've both learned something new today." She stepped inside her apartment and said, "Goodnight Conner."

He grinned, "I told ye that ye'd start ta like me." He bowed and said, "Goo'night lass."

Rhetta scowled as she shut the door hard.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Here's chapter three. **

**Thanks so much to Kick -Assing -Kunoichi for the Review. Also, thanks to both Kick -Assing -Kunoichi and bluepheonix65069 for the Favs. And thanks to: AceShadows, AnimeGirl916, Comidia Del Arte, Glomi85, Kick -Assing -Kunoichi, Leyshla Gisel, bluepheonix65069, kelizabeth13, ninja enchantress, rankagi, and slspiker0607 for the Follows. **


End file.
